Chương 67: Ch 37b – Chance

The complete darkness outside gives Cara new scenes to watch at the windows. Reflected on the glass, the table has been cleared of evening food. Erro has finished cleaning up in the kitchen area and disappeared after announcing he was going to train. Strangely, Crathsun sits opposite Flavitt at the long table, having challenged him to a game of Toil. Crathsun's unexpected invite had been the one event that made her think about turning away from the window to observe the room directly.

It was also the one event that had moved Crathsun away from her side. He had been her constant shadow since Draig had marched her to him. Sitting next to her in the armchairs. Moving with her to the table. Watching her eat. Returning her to the armchairs. There had been no attempt by him to speak, no change to the set of his sealed lips and his uplifted chin. His presence wasn't the precaution of their morning companionship. Crathsun was her guard.

As darkness had fallen her penguin friend on the window had disappeared. Replaced on the dirty glass by the reflected scenes of Crathsun poking at the air. Of Magse glancing curiously over to the back of Cara's chair. Of Flavitt crossing the room in jerky, tentative movements. Of Erro being shushed by Magse. Of Draig moving silently between perches, appearing to rest contentedly on his own but his fingers constantly moving between his cuff, the air in front of him, and the rub of his lower lip.

Cara had kept watch for Wyndeer but he had never appeared Her reflected view of Crathsun is blocked by a looming black shape that grows so large its outline is lost on the glass.

"Come with me," Draig says in a low voice devoid of emotion.

"Quietly, without drawing attention." Why? The single question that forms on her lips is erased when she glances up at his face and meets his cold eyes. She stands unsteadily. Careful to avoid her previous pins and needles mistake, she had chosen a more amenable sitting position, nevertheless her joints are stiff from the hours of stillness and tension. They move silently through the room. Crathsun's eyes track not her, but Draig as they pass. Flavitt's head is bent down, contemplating the next move of his tiles.

Where? The question almost makes it from her mouth as they continue walking past Wyndeer's door and on to the side door at the end of the corridor. She focuses on Draig's back as she follows him. His thermal jumper stretches snuggly over his tense shoulders. His short brown hair is cut to stop just before it meets the collar. She balls her sleeves nervously into her palms as they follow the track to the side of the building and out across the lot at the rear.

Security spotlights shine down from the rooftops, lighting their way in yellowed puddles. As he strides ahead passing the first of the orange buildings she stops. Her boots kick up small puffs of dust from the ground.

"I'm not supposed to go any further." Having not spoken all afternoon her voice is croaky and weak. He stops abruptly and turns to her. There was just enough light cast on to his face to see the surprise that passes over it.

"Wyndeer has requested we meet in the garages," he explains. Pausing his turn back he adds, "He needs to believe he's doing the right thing. If you want to stay here, he has to believe you." Her hands shake from both the cold and her nerves. She crosses her arms, bundling her hands into her armpits to still their trembles as she continues to follow him. Beyond the second orange building, hidden from view from the lot, are two sets of hangar doors. Draig slips through the gap in the first pair.

With her heart thumping loud in her chest she steps into the dimly lit garage. Wyndeer stands waiting in front of a row of three riders. The nose cones of the vehicles poke into the circle of light that surrounds him. The remainder of the vehicles disappear into the darkness beyond. Cara stops just inside the curve of the light. Her shoulders flinching as the echo of the door clanking shut bounces across the room.

Unable to see across the dark recesses of the large garage, she is forced to take in Wyndeer's authoritative stance. Feet set hip width apart, hands clasped behind his back, cleft chin pointed directly at her. She says nothing. She knows he will not tolerate any unprompted remarks from her. There was no danger of her making any, her throat had constricted painfully, too cowed to permit any noise.

"Cara." He throws out her name to echo across the hollow space. She hugs herself tightly. Draig, having taken a position by Wyndeer's side, looks on. His crossed arms mirrored hers, but where his curtail his agitation, hers seek to quell her fear. Wyndeer continues, impervious to her distress, "I have ensured this conversation is private because it's going to be your last chance to convince me that you are worthy of my efforts. I told you I will never put my team at risk.

Whatever my opinion of how the shards should be investigated I will not compromise their safety. If you want to remain at this outpost with my team you will tell me what you are hiding about the shards."

"I d-," she begins.

"I'm not finished" he warns, his lip curls to reveal a flash of teeth.

"Think very carefully about what you say next. I know you are withholding something. I see your hesitation every time you answer my questions. I'm not going to draw this out of you. I don't want to hear one of your long, confused explanations. Whatever you say next will be your only chance to answer. I want the truth in one simple sentence." Her breath catches in her chest. She can't breathe, can't release the air. Her mind is too busy racing through her options, her lack of options, to remind her lungs to breathe.

She feels her weight shift as she takes an unconscious step back from him. As if removing herself from the light will excuse her from his question. Draig's arms drop to his sides in anticipation of a need to chase her. Wyndeer's arms remain behind his back, as unmoved as the severe lines that cut deep into his brow. Blood rushes in her ears. If she didn't say something to release her breath soon, she will pass out. She takes a cautious step forward, returning both feet to the pool of light.

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"It heals me," she says barely loudly than a whisper.

"And," she swallows hard. Draig's hand flinches.

"It talks to me." Other than a small nod Wyndeer does not react, he smoothly starts raising his questions.

"It healed you on the Wixham. It healed you when we first arrived here. Have there been any other times?"

"You know?" she baulks, looking between the two men. Blood drained from her head, seeping into her legs as it responds to her panic.

"Answer the question, Cara," Wyndeer warns.

"I-," she shakes her head to focus her thoughts.

"No. Two times. Only two. It didn't respond to my arm."

"Do you control the healing?"

"No. I-. No, it pushes up my arm. I- I guess it thinks I need it." She stutters through her thoughts trying to grasp the answers he needed.

"Have you tried to control the healing?" he presses. She frowns, "No, it took-. I didn't understand it was healing me until after the second time. It hasn't happened again."

"Why didn't you tell me about the shard's healing?" His question hangs heavy in the air. A second test to regain his support.

"I-." Her mouth moves in an absence of sound. Her mind still trying to define an answer in the most succinct way possible.

"Because, I think, at first I didn't want to accept that it had happened. What it might mean about me. And then, after the demo, I-. I didn't want Vheece to know. He would want to explore it. And there's only one way to do that." Her throat closes around her final words, squeezing them into a whisper. Tears that she hasn't realised were brewing, well into her eyes, one makes an escape down her cheek. She ignores the tears, waiting silently for his next question.

"We have discussed suspicions about healing privately, not in our reports," Draig says. His tone is factual and disinterested, but she sees the earnest look on his face. She lifts a shaking hand to wipe at her tears with her sleeve.

"What are you suggesting when you say you were concerned about what it might mean about me?" Wyndeer continues, ignoring Draig's interjection.

"It's, well it's not natural for a human, is it?" she swallows hard, "It, it makes me question if I am still me."

"And being able to move objects doesn't?" Wyndeer asks, his eyebrow raises. It is the first deviation from his angry expression.

"Well, that's different." She rubs her head to clear her thoughts.

"I don't move the objects, the shard does. The unnatural part is my ability to communicate with the shard." Wyndeer inclines his head as he thinks.

"You're saying the healing is a new ability within you, but the psychokinesis is in fact a function of communicating with the shard?"

"No," she says quickly, alarmed by his suggestion.

"The healing comes from the shard. I feel its energy flowing into me and it dissipates when I deactivate the shard."

"It is another function of the shard, just like the movement of objects?" he asks.

"I guess," she replies, leaning into his suggestion. His frown returns, his look distrustful. She realises too late her mistake in giving him a vague answer.

"How does it talk to you?" he demands. She takes a deep breath, having no idea how to answer but not wanting him to misread any hesitation.

"It's not talking specifically. It's more like notions, like the notions I send to the objects." Her hands move in front of her, trying to express a concept she doesn't know how to voice.

"When you gave me the shard the first time, in the bunkhouse." She gestures at Draig, wanting him to concur to the events they had all witnessed.

"It gave me a notion of familiarity even though I'd never seen it before in my life. It aroused memories. Thoughts of someone I was really close to, who- who- was-." Her voice breaks with the sudden emotion of remembering Gran. She clears her throat.

"It gave me memories that were comforting and familiar. They made me want to hold the shard. The shard made me want to hold it." She studies their faces, trying to read their reactions to her explanation.

"Does the shard do this every time?" Wyndeer asks.

"No. No, not with memories. It only did that the first few times on Xiatt. Like- like it wanted me to know it was safe to touch it."

"But it gives you notions every time? It tells you to do something?" he asks distrustfully.

"No, not every time. Not most of the time. When it healed me, when we first arrived here, I was scared to touch it. I didn't know what would happen. It gave me the notion of comfort so that I'd pick it up. But when I pick it up in trials and training it doesn't communicate anything. I just use it. Except," she thinks out loud, "at the beginning of the demo." She stares at her empty hand, remembering the feeling of holding the shard in front of Vheece.

"In the demo it gave me the notion of- of- familiar. Like it sensed how alone I was feeling, and it wanted to reassure me." She slowly closes her hand, wishing she could have that reassurance as she stands alone and vulnerable in the cold, dark garage. Wyndeer clears his throat. Cara drops her hand, realising she's been staring at it an unnaturally long time. Wyndeer looks at her uncertainly.

"Did the shard give you the notion to aim the weight at Vheece or Draig?"

"No," a heat burns into her cheeks, "that was just me. Other than offer a notion of comfort the shard doesn't influence me." She looks across at Draig, catching the hard look in his eyes just before he turns his head away. Wyndeer scratches a hand along his jaw.

"Is there anything else you haven't told me about the shards?"

"That's everything," Cara replies, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with him. Wyndeer breaks the gaze, looking over to Draig and inclining his head to the shadows at the rear. Draig strides the two steps over to Wyndeer who has turned his back on her to engage in a private conversation. Cara hugs herself as she waits, realising for the first time that the cold had seeped up her legs as if encasing her lower half in a shell of ice.

She shifts her weight stiffly from one leg to the other to break the frozen bonds.

"Draig will take you back," Wyndeer announces.

"Does, that? What does that mean?" she asks, unable to read Wyndeer's conclusion from the look on his face.

"We will resume shard training in the morning, with a few revisions. I will discuss it with Crathsun." Wyndeer pauses, watching her. Cara feels the muscles of her forehead and jaw relax.

"This was your last chance, Cara." Wyndeer warns, "The next time you break my trust I will deliver you to Vheece's base. Do not speak of what you have said in this conversation, nor the one in my office, to anyone. Clear?"

"Yes," she replies. Her teeth chattering from both the cold and the adrenaline of relief.

"Thank you."